I visited San Francisco for its Fetish Ball this weekend and spent one early morning following Satine Phoenix around the city on various adventures. Generally I am a clean-living, wholesome person, but I hadn’t slept in a couple of days and things began looking Lovecraftian after a while (which is also the name of my band).
3 a.m.
I arrive at Phoenix’ hotel after most of the Fetish Ball after-party participants have left. Coming out of the elevator on tottery heels and smelling like vomit is the reason why the doorman told me, “Make sure you’re quiet up there; people are complaining.” There are a few people left, including her friend January, a foot fetish model. I demand they stand on the couch.
4 a.m.
“Let’s go see my friend Ian,” says Phoenix. While that will make the m/f ratio less favorable, I am only there to observe, so I tag along. Ian’s not home when Satine bangs on his door. It is doubtful if he even lived there. We leave in haste. Satine takes care of business by a warehouse door.
“Will you take a picture?” she asks/”I should probably take a picture,” I say.
4:30 a.m.
We head to another Ian’s house near City Hall. Those guys aren’t happy to see me. “We thought she was coming alone,” one says. “Joke’s on you,” I say. The apartment is small. “Doesn’t she have, like, a full hotel rrom?” one asks. “Yeah,” I say. “I don’t know why we’re here either.” They seem used to this sort of thing. We leave after 30 minutes.
5:30 a.m.
We head back to the hotel. The time change has resulted in a parking ticket. A hooker tells me I just got it two mintes ago.
“Couldn’t you have blown the cop?” I ask. The ticket is $71; a blowjob costs $50. San Francisco would benefit more from my paying for a cop to be fellated, I asure you.
“I cost more than that ticket,” she says. I laugh, but choose to run her over. Every time I go to San Francisco, I get a parking ticket. Even when I fly.
Satine’s ready for bed. I’m ready to drive home.
Later, I take a wrong turn and wind up in Marin County. Next time Satine comes over my house, I’m making her buy a goddamn pizza.
Previously: Rebelle Rousers and their genomes; By the time I get to Phoenix, I’ll be in Prague
See also: Satine Phoenix
It’s those kind of moments, the really surreal “how the fuck did I get here” kind of things that make life less ordinary.
You have an interesting existance, sir.
Great band name, btw…
OH MY GOD… i dont even remember that part of the night. i’m actually really happy you took photos of it. Oh man.. the only part of the weekend i dont remember. .. haha.. I’m really glad you came along. i missed you a whole hell of a lot!!!
call me.. aiight.
~Satine
Shit! I wish I heard all of this commotion!!!